


a martyr in my bed

by fraldarian



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Threesome - F/M/M, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28803561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraldarian/pseuds/fraldarian
Summary: He wonders briefly, if they do this on purpose. Sex on a living room couch with the window opposite Sylvain’s drawn fully open, raven hair between thighs and fingers curled into plush pillows. It’s been like this since he moved in two weeks ago. Always on Saturday evenings, and always with lamps set low and blinds drawn up for the world to see.--Sylvain gets invited to a threesome by the couple next door. This is the luckiest sex he's ever had.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Annette Fantine Dominic/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	a martyr in my bed

**Author's Note:**

> felix's genitalia are described using terms such as cock/clit etc.  
> this fic was originally an older oneshot of mine, which is why it may seem familiar. my best friend ended up re-editing it for me so i decided to repost it. the art in this fic was drawn by @/XENOPELTIDAE on twitter! thank you so much.

Voyeurism isn’t something Sylvain should partake in. There’s a guilt that comes with the action, the curling of fingers into fine countertops and a sink that runs to cover the sounds he makes. There’s a steady art to it, one that takes precision and practice. It’s hard not to palm himself through his trousers, especially when curtains are drawn back and he can  _ see  _ them.

He wonders briefly, if they do this on purpose. Sex on a living room couch with the window opposite Sylvain’s drawn fully open, raven hair between thighs and fingers curled into plush pillows. It’s been like this since he moved in two weeks ago. Always on Saturday evenings, and always with lamps set low and blinds drawn up for the world to see.

The third time it happens, it becomes clear it’s not by accident.

Sylvain’s got a hand wrapped around his swollen girth when amber eyes look up and lock stares. He’s mortified, to say the least, is about to shut his kitchen blinds and never step foot outside again if it means not having to see them. Except, against all odds, there’s a series of events that unfold:

The other man rises from where he’s seated, and whispers into the woman’s ear. When her head turns, sapphire eyes meet his, and then it’s over for Sylvain.

Because, inconceivably, she finds her partner’s slicked entrance and crooks two fingers inside. They’re still staring at him, and Sylvain should move, should stop whatever he’s doing – except he doesn’t. Doesn’t, because she’s fucking the man with her hand, and despite the telltale signs of a moan escaping the stranger’s lips, his amber eyes still stare back at Sylvain.

When Sylvain comes, it’s with a wordless, shocked expression upon his face. He thinks he can hear the mocking laughter from the couple reach his ears.

A week passes by, and there’s no sign of his neighbours. Sylvain shouldn’t necessarily be surprised. He’d met them once before, when he’d first moved in. He remembers their names only out of necessity – and because of the fact he’s watched them have sex numerous times. The woman is named Annette, and from what he recalls, she’s a local gig singer for a bar downtown. The man, Felix, is a manager for the establishment. Sylvain can’t say he’s necessarily surprised; they both look like the kind of couple to work together. A fucking power move, in Sylvain’s books.

Until Friday night rolls around, and there’s a knock upon his door. He’s still in his office attire, tie hanging loose around his shoulders and a few buttons popped so he’s free of the restricting collar. In his hands is a singular box of Vietnamese takeout, and he stares down at it pitifully from his couch.

“One second!” He’s not sure who’s at the door. Perhaps the takeout boy, returning and asking for a handsome stranger’s number? Sylvain can’t say that it hasn’t happened in the past. Smoothing his hair back and discarding his tie against the coffee table, Sylvain stands and unlocks his door.

He feels his blood run cold. “Hi, Syl!” Annette’s standing there, immeasurably small next to him and yet somehow taking up the entire door frame regardless. She greets him with a broad grin and a merry look that seems too overfamiliar for a neighbour that’s only spoken to him once. Behind her, Felix is a marble statue, staring on coolly.

“Oh! Ah, hi Annette. Felix.” This should not be happening. Is this what normal neighbours do? Let their new townhouse buddy jack it to their living room sex and then invite themselves over as if nothing has happened? Already Sylvain can feel his face heating up.

Annette smiles cheerfully, taking Felix’s hand in hers. “Did you just get home from work? We didn’t mean to bother you!” It clearly looks like they did, however, judging by the toss of the other man’s eyes. Clearly Felix isn’t fooled by Annie’s demeanour.

Sylvain fixes a broad and easygoing smile upon his face. He can play this cool. Of course he can. “Don’t sweat it! I wasn’t doing much anyways.” He pauses, pursing his lips. “Can I help you two with anything?”

The couple share a look before Annette looks back up. “Come sing some karaoke with us! Fefe bought me a new machine for my birthday.”

Felix coughs. “Don’t call me pet names in public.” It’s the first time he’s spoken since Sylvain opened the door and Goddess, is he paying attention to that gravel voice now.

“Aw, Felix! No need to be shy. It’s just our  _ neighbour _ .”

The connotation behind those words is clear. The insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed, and immediately Sylvain feels himself flush. Shit. “Karaoke! That, heh, sounds fun. Right now?” There’s a chuckle he releases to help relieve some of the tension, stretching his arms habitually behind his head. “Can’t say I’m not surprised you want to sing with me. Really, I’m quite terrible. My best friend says I’m horrendously loud.”

When Felix answers with a frustrated growl and a roll of his eyes, Sylvain pauses. “Idiot. She wants you to come sing and then have sex with us.”

Well, that’s one way to put it. Even Annette seems a little mortified by the bluntness Felix offers. “You – want to have  _ sex  _ with me?”

The woman tries to laugh it off, a flush rising to her cheeks. He finds it cute. It fits her. “Felix!” She swats the other man’s arm, her crooked grin gives away more than it should. “Don’t mind him, Sylvain. He’s always like this.” Annette clears her throat, keeping a death grip on her boyfriend’s arm. “You don’t have to! But, ah, we extend the offer to you kindly.”

This is a turn of events. But if he’s being honest with himself, and he  _ is,  _ the offer tempts him. There’s a memory rekindling itself then, of limbs tangled languidly upon a couch and fingers to lips. “Dearest Annette,” Sylvain murmurs, bending down until he’s nearly face level with her. “You should know that I can’t refuse an invitation that tempting.” And then, turning his gaze up until he’s staring directly into amber eyes – “Felix. Where is this karaoke machine of yours?”

“It’s not  _ mine.  _ ”

Felix shows him anyways.

Sylvain’s made a lot of decisions in his life. He thinks, perhaps, this is one of his best yet. It certainly feels like it, when he’s got his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs, his work shirt crumpled on the carpeted floor, and another man on his lap.

Felix is gorgeous. That’s one of the first things he notices. Stygian hair and sharp eyes, pretty hands, and a mouth that does wonders against his neck. Foreign fingers tease a nipple, dip down to trace around Sylvain’s navel.

Annette is of equal beauty. If Felix was Persephone, then Annette was Aphrodite. That left Sylvain to be Adonis, gored by a boar and brought back to life in the cradling hands of two gods. It’s not such a bad fate, not when Annette is pressed flush against his back, delicate hands beneath the waistband of his briefs.

“ _ Fuck  _ –” The curse flies from his lips before Sylvain can stop it, a warm grip around a swollen girth and a thumb that presses to a weeping cockhead. He knows how to use his hands, is  _ good  _ at using them, can make a bed partner squirm and arch and come just from crooked digits alone. But Annette’s on another plane entirely, and when she extends a neck across to capture her boyfriend’s lips, all Sylvain can do is stare.

When they break away, he’s met with a meticulous stare. “Are you enjoying this?” The question comes from Felix, and the intent behind it is clear. “Filthy. You like watching us get each other off, don’t you?”

The problem is, Sylvain can’t lie. “I do,” he croaks out. His voice feels raw, as if it’s been fucked from his throat. It may as well have been, judging by the way the couple is eyeing him now. A shiver runs down his spine at the admittance of truth.

Felix sniffs. “You love it that much? Get off the bed then.”

Sylvain does as he’s told, far too eager when Felix stops straddling his lap and Annette’s hands pull away. It feels a little degrading, standing here like this, trousers around his ankles and a cock that hangs above a pulled waistband. Sylvain steps out of his clothes, pulls down his briefs and stands in the centre of the room. He feels like an art piece at a gallery, Felix and Annette the critics.

Annette coos, her thumb running up and down Felix’s bicep. “Oh, he really is quite handsome like this, isn’t he?” It’s hard not to flush crimson under their steady gazes, open and admiring.

“You want to fuck him that badly, huh?”

“Maybe.” Annette smiles. “Would you like that, Syl? If I pegged you?”

The guttural noise that escapes Sylvain’s mouth is pathetic, akin to a begging dog. “I want that,” he whispers. “Please.” He’s scared to raise his voice, scared that if he does it’ll crack and the pent-up desperation will seep out as if he’s being squeezed like a wet sponge.

She giggles.. “I can do that.” She tosses a wink at him before pecking Felix’s cheek. “Fe. Help me get undressed?”

The question is a loaded and cocked gun, and it’s aimed right at Felix’s temple. “Come here,” Fe growls. With hands splaying across the broad expanse of her back, Sylvain is left to stare numbly as deft fingers undo a clasp. Immediately the lacy bra she’d been wearing slides from narrow shoulders, and then it’s dropping down, and  _ down,  _ until it hits the floor and a set of pert breasts are staring his and Fe’s way.

A smirk traces Felix’s lips when a thumb paws at a rosy bud, because Annette’s twitching, arching against another body’s warm skin and suddenly Sylvain is  _ transfixed.  _ “Always so sensitive here, aren’t you Annie?” It comes out as a mocking coo that’s meant to rile, but Syl doesn’t miss when a stray hand moves down to tease off a set of panties.

Fuck, that’s hot. Sylvain is screwed.

Sapphire eyes glance to Sylvain, who remains unforgotten. When she speaks, it’s directed towards Felix, but Sylvain can’t help the way his throat clams up and a whine is brought forth when her eyes remain fixed on him, unwavering. “Aren’t you still a little overdressed, Fefe? Why don’t you show our guest more?”

Sylvain doesn’t think Felix is going to listen. But instead, the other man locks eyes with him, gives him and the erection still resting in the naked air a once over and  _ strips. _

“That good enough for you?” It’s not meant for Annette, Sylvain realizes. He’s talking to  _ him. _

“It’s more than enough,” Sylvain says, suddenly breathless.

“Good. Then I can get back to business.”

Felix bends to cup a plush breast, and it’s all Sylvain can do to suppress a shiver as he watches lips tease at a rosy nipple. The man’s as good with his mouth on a teat as he is with wording sharp quips. His tongue circles a rosy nipple before sucking on it.

The effect on Annette is immediate. Sylvain’s eyes trace downwards, watching the subtle curve of her back and the soft moan that Felix induces. He can’t help himself then, and there’s no shame as he licks a wet stripe up the centre of his palm and places it to his cock.

“You’re giving him quite the show, Fefe.” Annie’s breath is strained, and there’s strawberry champagne staining her cheeks and highlighting freckles as she cups raven locks in her hands. The only response she gets is a muffled grumble, a side view of amber eyes and two fingers that slip between wet folds.

This is criminal. Sylvain has to bite his lower lip to ignore the lewd squelch of a wet palm quickening its pace along his shaft. A hazel stare trails down, watches as Felix plays deftly with a swollen clit and brings forth another whimper from Annette. Sylvain wants to help, wants to tweak her nipples and suck on the fingers that have been inside her and watch the carnal look in Fe’s eyes as he does so. It’s tempting, so tempting –

“…Get over here.” It’s Felix talking, mouth no longer against a pert breast. Instead he’s staring back at Sylvain with a harsh, beckoning stare. His fingers are still idly at work, circling her clit before dipping down to press into a soaking entrance. When his hand pulls away, Sylvain doesn’t miss the gleam of his wet digits in the low light.

Sylvain doesn’t ignore when an order is tossed his way. Scrambling forward on his knees, he looks expectantly between the couple in front of him. Annette’s still pushed against the mattress, hair like fire spread beneath her. She spreads a single leg further sideways as Sylvain makes his way closer, exposing him to pink inner lips and a clit that begs for more attention. He wants to, wants to put his mouth on her and make her sing like she was under Felix’s touchm only a short while ago.

“You’re going to help me treat her right, Sylvain.”

“Anything you want. Please.”

Felix quirks a brow at the blatant desperation, but says nothing about it. Instead the man is grabbing Sylvain’s forearm, pulling him up so that he’s settled beside Annette. “Put those hands to use. Show us you’re not all talk.”

Who is Sylvain to do anything but accept gratuitously? Immediately he’s taking up Felix’s post, sliding a hand up a smooth side and over the curve of a breast before resting on a freckled cheek. Azure eyes stare up at him, only closing when Sylvain bends to greet soft lips.

Annette’s hand slides up, impossibly grounding as she curls dainty fingers into auburn locks. “You like being good, don’t you?” The question is so out of the blue that Sylvain freezes, palm hovering over her skin as if he’s been seared. “I can tell. You like it when someone puts you to use.” There’s a soft giggle, even as Felix finds a home between her thighs. “How cute!”

His composure has already been lost long ago. That much is obvious, by the way his cock rests hard against a thigh and his hand tightens around a tit. When he speaks, his voice is shaky, and his cheeks flare a bright cherry red. “I do.”

There’s a shiver from Annette, but it’s not caused by Sylvain. Instead Felix’s tongue has found itself pressed flat against a swollen clit, a single hand smoothing back pink folds to get a better angle. When his lips come around to take her in his mouth like a starving man, Annie’s hips buck, and the keening noise she lets loose sends a wave of arousal straight to Sylvain’s girth.

It’s too hot. It’s not fair, not in the slightest, and Sylvain has to hold back a pitiful whimper as he moves to mouth at the woman’s neck. Teeth graze soft skin, biting at the conjunction of her shoulder before trailing downwards. When his lips come to form a soft ‘O’ around the raised mound of her breast, he finds to his joy a single hand egging him on.

“Like that, Syl. You’re doing so well.” Annette’s turned her face to the side, looking down at him now with flushed cheeks and lidded eyes. The praise, doubled by the expression she wears is too much for Sylvain. He shudders, shutting his eyes tightly and riding the wave of euphoria that the words bring. It’s pathetic.

Felix hasn’t let up, instead doubles down on his efforts with a sturdy grip to the woman’s thighs. There’s a sinful squelch, a quiet moan being eased from between parted lips, and a tongue that feasts as if Annette herself is a grand meal. The heady scent of sex in the air is intoxicating, only heightened by the quivering of legs and a sob that fills the room. When she comes, it’s with her thighs pressed against Felix’s face, his fingers inside a throbbing hole and his tongue against her inner folds.

The other man only eases back after he’s helped Annie ride through her orgasm, wiping a wet mouth with the back of his palm. The woman’s essence is still upon his chin, and Sylvain can’t help himself, can’t help the way his body lunges forward to grasp at the nape of Felix’s neck. There’s a gasp of surprise, and then hands that grip shoulders and a tongue that dips between Sylvain’s lips and up into the warmth of his mouth.

When he pulls away, Felix’s face is flushed, and Annette laughs from where she’s settled atop the mattress. “Do you want to get fucked now, Sylvain?” Her voice shouldn’t be that light. Why is it that light? But Sylvain nods numbly regardless, swallowing loudly.

“Please, Annette.”

There’s a merry smile tossed his way, and then Annette is pushing herself off the bed. “Give him a little treat, Felix. I think he deserves it.” The woman tosses an insidious wink Sylvain’s way, and it’s enough to make his face flush the colour of red wine.

Despite everything, Felix obeys. Sylvain assumes it must be the charm that radiates off of Annette – the cheerful demeanour seems like a façade. He knows that the woman is well aware of what she’s doing. It’s a game, one that Sylvain doesn’t mind playing.

“Back up.” Felix is pushing Sylvain away then, a solid hand between each pec. Sylvain watches with wide eyes as the man shimmies free of his briefs and exposes himself to the cool air. “Come here now,” Felix demands, and who is Sylvain to say no? Immediately he’s settling back down on his knees, bending forward and tracing a hand up the outer seam of the man’s thigh.

When Felix parts his legs, Sylvain’s grip around his inner leg tightens. Soft raven hair falls in curls, damp as two fingers come to part soaking lips. It’s entrancing, and Sylvain can’t help but make a soft noise of wonder as Felix pinches the hood of his cock between index and thumb and pulls it backwards.

“Like what you see?” His voice is taunting, edging on malicious. Already the man’s toying with himself, letting a roaming finger slide along a pinkened entrance. A moment later and that same finger rolls back up, edging along his shaft. “Go on. Have a taste while she fucks you. Whore.”

There are sounds from behind him, then. The opening and shutting of wooden drawers, and a hum that sounds too cheerful for its own good. “Fefe, should I use this one?”

Sylvain turns his head back. Or, at least tries to. Instead Felix catches his chin, tossing him a smug look and pressing a thumb to his lips like a dirty secret. “Don’t worry, lover boy. You’ll get to see it soon enough.” And then, as if Sylvain isn’t even there, tucked between creamed thighs: “Yeah. Use that one. I’d like to see him squirm on it.”

Annie giggles. “Think he’ll beg?”

Sylvain shifts, lets out an impatient whine and stares straight up at Felix. “Please,” he groans. “I want you two to fuck me.” Already he’s grinding hips along the mattress, and he shivers at the pleased coo that escapes Fe’s lips.

“Aw. He already is, Annette.” The man crooks a finger, beckoning for the woman to circle around. “This look good to you, Gautier? Do you want it?”

The dildo Annette has picked out is downright sinful. It’s purple, ribbed along the sides for maximum pleasure. Sylvain’s imagining it now, each one rubbing against ringed muscle. It immediately makes him groan, pathetic and high-pitched. “Yeah.”

Annette smiles, leaning forward and teasing it along Sylvain’s lips. A tongue darts out, trailing a wet stripe up its length. He tastes rubber. “What am I going to do with it, Syl?”

“You’re going to fuck me with it.”

“That’s right!” Annette’s back to her merry tone, and before long, she’s out of eyeshot. Sylvain’s left with dexterous fingers through his hair and a cunt that needs proper care.

When he slides a hand up, the reaction is immediate. Felix is going lax underneath his touch, and Sylvain can’t help himself when he traces inner folds with a wandering index. Already the man’s so wet; part of Sylvain wants to see just how far he can take Fe.

“Don’t waste my time,” comes the sharp growl from above. But when Sylvain looks up, Felix is flushed, and the mask he wears becomes clear.

There’s a low, guttural chuckle that edges on predatory. “I’m not, baby.” There’s the snapping of teeth in response to the pet name. “I like seeing how wet I get you.” A second later and he’s teasing an entrance, dips his finger into it and  _ revels  _ in the heat. Felix is loose, and warm, and so slick that it’s easy for Sylvain to curl his finger upwards and press further.

“ _ Fuck. _ ” Felix moans from above, and the sound is so delicious that Sylvain can’t help but lap it up. He inserts another, lets a languid pace be set and before long Fe is rocking his hips in tandem.

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to fuck you with my hand?” When Felix nods, it’s shaky, and there’s no bravado left like there once was. “You want me to suck on your cock, too?”

“Shut up and do it.”

Annette hasn’t been forgotten. Behind Sylvain she’s gotten the dildo strapped in place, humming to herself as it hugs her hips snugly. “You ready there?”

Sylvain looks up from where he’s been transfixed, and her voice cuts in before his mouth can be upon Felix. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Please.” The sight of her standing there is enough to make him shudder. Annette is all loose hair and freckled skin, soft breasts and ribbed strap. There’s a burning pit of envy in his gut, and Sylvain has to close his eyes and turn away. It’s not fair – a couple shouldn’t look this otherworldly.

There are a lot of pleasures in life that Sylvain has sought out. None so other than when dainty fingers brush against a fluttering rim, cool to the touch from lube not yet warmed. Annette’s being so slow, so methodical in her method that Sylvain’s almost certain he’ll become victim to madness before anything even truly happens.

“Annette,” he whines, “please.”

He can nearly sense and taste the smile that must be forming upon her lips. “What is it, Sylvain?” That finger is still tracing circles around his hole, and Sylvain wants it in, wants her to  _ fuck him _ –

“ _ Ah _ .” Suddenly that index is crooking itself inside Sylvain, finds home along muscled walls and his hips are  _ bucking.  _ It’s an intrusion nonetheless, and he’s trying hard to ignore the catch of his rim, focusing instead on the way a finger chases a tight heat, seeking something it can’t get enough of.

Felix laughs from above, and Sylvain is surprised when the hand resting in his hair remains gentle. “She certainly knows what she’s doing, hm?” The man’s still so close, so close that Sylvain can rest a cheek against an inner thigh and scent his arousal between porcelain legs. He can practically  _ taste _ him, wants to badly, almost places his mouth upon him when Annette slides a second finger into him.

Immediately a groan is ripped from Sylvain’s lips. He can’t help himself, not when fingers hit a velvet prostate and his hips rock upon instinct. From behind, he hears the woman giggle. “Oh, Fefe. Look how excited he is!” If only to prove her point further, there’s a third digit being inserted, and Sylvain feels so  _ full  _ that a quiet sob breaks free. “You’re going to be a good boy for me, right Sylvain? You’re going to take my cock so well.”

It’s all Sylvain can do but nod wordlessly, fingers curled so roughly against Fe’s skin that he’s sure they’ll leave bruises in the early morning. “Want to be good,” he slurs. “Want to be good for you.”

Except a moment later and Annette’s hand is gone, leaving Sylvain to clench around nothing but air. He’s about to protest, beg for more, until a blunt head slides between the cleft of his ass and rests firmly against a blushing hole.

“ _ Annette, _ ” Sylvain groans. “ _ Please. _ ”

Bless the Goddess for what happens next, because the woman is saving Sylvain from anymore pleas. With one languid motion she’s pushing into him, and suddenly his mind is blanking, and any thoughts he might have had are pushed away. Because Annette’s sinking further, and  _ further, _ and with each inch there’s a fine ribbed line that manages to burrow against every craving spot.

Sylvain cries out, and that’s it. There’s the snapping of hips as Annette bottoms out, hands that leave hips red and marked, and then she’s thrusting into him. It makes his toes curl, makes Sylvain want to wax poetic about how she feels against his prostate and the way Felix’s hands keep him grounded.

It’s too much. Sylvain needs to silence himself before he becomes a court’s fool. He leans forward in time with the rutting of hips, lets a tongue connect with the length of Felix’s cock and feels himself succumb to every emotion as if he’s a man who's been denied food until this point.

“ _ Shit,  _ Sylvain –” There’s a cut-off noise from above, one that Felix snuffs out with the biting of knuckles as lips form around his shaft and begin to suck. It’s enough to egg Sylvain on, nosing against soft curls and breathing in the heady scent of Fe around him. Sylvain’s done this many times, and the movements form naturally with his tongue, but the mewl that escapes Felix when two fingers bend and connect with his A-spot is more heavenly than he could imagine.

Annette’s still behind him, and the lewd smacking of skin against skin hasn’t left Sylvain’s ears. It’s hard to focus on much, and he  _ knows _ he’s going to come soon, especially when Annette bends and whispers into his ear: “You’re taking me so well, Syl. Can you come for us? We’d enjoy it so very much.”

He doesn’t know how she’s remaining so composed. Doesn’t understand how  _ both  _ of them are. Despite the greedy rocking of Felix’s hips against his face, the other man’s still quiet with his presence. Annette’s breath from behind is quick, ragged. Sylvain wonders how easy it’ll be to get her off after this.

Felix only begs when he’s close to coming. “Please,” he rasps. “Sylvain.”

There’s an ache in his jaw, one that he knows is going to linger far after they’ve finished. But he doesn’t let up regardless, only takes his mouth off inner lips and a swollen girth to smirk up at him. “I –  _ ah – _ want you to come in my mouth.” It’s hard to talk with Annette inside him, harder to talk still when his balls ache and he knows he’s close.

It’s the only real coaxing Felix needs. When he comes, it’s with two fingers inside of him and a tongue that laps selfishly at inner folds. It’s too much, too arousing, too stimulating with the scent of sex and arousal and sweat and  _ Annette inside  _ –

Sylvain comes with a wordless sob, soils the sheets beneath in a trail of wet stickiness. He feels himself squeeze around Annie’s girth, milking her for something that isn’t there, and when Sylvain’s head falls against Fe’s thigh, trembling, she pulls out.

There’s the sound of something hitting the floor, and then the dipping of a mattress as Annette crawls forward on all fours. “Fe,” she croaks, and whatever act she’d been putting on falls away. What’s left is the desperate rutting of hips as Felix toys with her clit, the trembling of thighs as she ensnares his hand, and the realization that  _ Sylvain  _ had been the cause of it.

It’s a long while later when either three of them talk. They haven’t moved, Sylvain’s head against an inner thigh, Felix’s fingers carding his hair and Annette slumped in her boyfriend’s lap.

“Sylvain.”

“Yes, Annette?”

“So. Do you want to go on a proper date with us?”


End file.
